


How to Save a Life

by EmilliaGryphon



Series: Groot Steve Rocket Bucky: Scenes From a Life [6]
Category: Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Sacrifice, platonic friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:09:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilliaGryphon/pseuds/EmilliaGryphon
Summary: Bucky takes a bullet for Rocket. Not long after, Rocket returns the favor.





	1. Chapter 1

“What the hell was that Barnes?!” Rocket scrambled to the man’s side. Bucky grimaced, fingers fumbling for where the bullet had lodged itself.    
  
“Well it’s not exactly a ‘thanks for saving my life’ but I’ll take it.” Bucky growled, he located the bullet with relative ease slick blood seeping through his clothes. He took deep breaths, willing himself to be calm. It was something he knew all too well, that taste of adrenaline, that panic. He swallowed it down, peering through the dark blood and suit. “I’ve had worse,” he added pressing his good hand down on the wound despite its throbbing.    
  
“Somehow that’s not reassuring,” Rocket growled. Bucky bit his tongue and pressed against the wound harder in an attempt to staunch the blood.    
  
“It’s just my shoulder,” he breathed. Rocket examined the wound moving Bucky’s hand away, whiskers twitching.    
  
“Yeah well what if it wasn’t?” He demanded roughly. “What if it was your neck? Or your thick skull?!” Bucky tossed his hair from his eyes and attempted to stand. Rocket reached out grabbing his arm and steadying him. A wave of nausea washed over him and he sank back down, leaning against the rough wall of the building. “What would I tell Steve?!” Rocket continued, pressing down on Bucky’s wound himself. “That you threw your life away for a damn vermin?! I ain’t worth that!” The words were barely out of his mouth before Bucky grabbed him by the front of his jumpsuit, eyes feverish and voice low.    
  
“You don’t get to tell me what’s worth dying for,” he snarled. He let go, and Rocket stumbled backward as if he’d been struck. Bucky seemed to snap out of it hefting his shoulder. “And I’m not gonna die,” he added. “Help me up,” Bucky hunched forward standing shakily at first. They made their way slowly back to the apartment, Bucky taking each step careful and precise, every so often withdrawing his hand. Still bloody but less so.    
  
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Rocket commented trying to help Bucky up the narrow steps to the door though the height difference did little to aid them. Bucky glanced down at him,    
  
“Of course I should have. I’ve kept Steve alive more or less...you get used to saving small impulsive people who start fights they really shouldn’t start.” Rocket only raised a brow, but opened the door for Bucky.

\---

“How’s your shoulder?” Rocket shuffled into Bucky and Steve’s room the next morning. Bucky looked over the rifle he was repairing and tossed a glance over his shoulder. 

  
“Oh the pain,” he moaned jokingly. “I can’t stand it, the light….I see a light! Tell Steve I love him! Oh...oh ouch! Goodbye cruel world!”

“Quit the crap Barnes,” Rocket mumbled. 

“What? You asked how my shoulder was!” He teased. 

  
“I was too busy being angry at yah I guess I forgot to thank you.”    
  
Bucky inspected the gun, flicked the safety back on and set it down next to the others, reaching for his knives next.    
  
“Your welcome Rock.”    
  
“You really shouldn’t have done that though,” Rocket flexed his paws, eyes fixed on the weapons. “What if you died?”    
  
“I didn’t,” Bucky commented, twirling the sharpener in his hand before taking it to the blade.    
  
“You could’ve!” Rocket growled stepping closer. “You didn’t consider that before you went all dramatic and flung yourself between me and that gun? Did it cross your fucking mind?”    
  
“Of course it did!” Bucky snapped, slapping down his knife with a whack against the workbench. “It would’ve been worth it even if I did.” His eyes shimmered with that haunted glaze that was all too familiar. “Hell I thought taking a bullet for you would prove that but I guess not.” Rocket looked away, ears lowering. Bucky went back to his knife, taking a breath. When he spoke next it was softer. “I couldn’t save you from that lab, I’ll never forgive myself for that.”    
  
“You know that doesn’t matter Barnes, I don’t blame yah,” Bucky waved the raccoonoid’s words away dismissively.  His swallowed back the memories. “Steve going rogue and sacrificing everything he had with the Avengers just to save me? I didn’t think I was worth that.” Bucky’s knuckles whitened as he sharpened his blade. “His friendship with Natasha, Sam and the others? Going against the Avengers...against his principles...just to save a brain damaged assassin that got himself killed and captured years ago? I didn’t think I was worth that.” Bucky’s eyes look far away. He held his breath, heart hammering in his chest each thrumming beat courtesy of Steve Rogers. The weight of it was heavy..but a welcome burden. “I still don’t...” his words caught. 

In the warm late afternoon light shining through the window Bucky looked down at his remaining arm, the flesh scarred but not overly so. A bruise nearly healed, the nick of a razor. He stared at a section of flesh below his elbow. A piece of his skin not yet marred. If he looked at it long enough he could almost pretend none of it happened. He shook ran his metal hand through his hair sweeping it back out of his face and cleared his throat returning to the present. 

“Took me long enough but I finally realized it,” he continued.

“Realized what?” Rocket prodded softer than Bucky had ever heard him speak. He looked at the raccoonoid, truth be told he forgot the creature was there. 

“That it didn’t matter what I thought about my life or my worth anything like that. It mattered what Steve thought.” He smiled “Steve believed I deserved a second chance, that I deserved a second shot. He believed it so strongly he was willing to give his life for me to have that chance,” his smile grew, heart elated. “And if I deserve a second shot, hell a third or a fourth or a fifth one, then so do you.”    
Rocket bit his tongue and stared at the ground even as Bucky looked at him. 

“Course you do,” he sighed exasperated. “You….you mean a lot to Steve, to a lot of people. Your an Avenger and shit...you saved the world.” 

“You saved the galaxy,” Bucky countered. The raccoonoid huffed. “I know you don’t believe it, like I said I still don’t but one day you will. One day you’ll realize you’re loved. That you also matter to a lot of people.” Rocket opened his mouth but Bucky held up his hand. “You matter to me Rocket. And to Groot of course  and Quill, Thor, Gamora, Drax and Steve. Lots of people.” Bucky looked at him and smiled wider, something akin to Groot’s spores, full of light and joy only this time it was a feeling budding in his cybernetic chest. “Besides,” Bucky leaned back against his chair and folded his arms, carefully concealing the twinge in his shoulder; he stretched and sighed happily. “I got my rabies vaccine, you know-just in case- if you went and died on me I would’ve got all those shots for nothing and they hurt a lot worse then this bullet, believe me.” 

“For the last time Barnes I don’t got rabies!” Rocket bared his teeth, but there was no true anger behind it, Bucky knew that very well by now. 

“Of course not. Now come here.” The raccoonoid crossed his arms,

“Why?”

“So I can give my favorite raccoon a nice ole’ pet on the head.” 

“I ain’t a…forget it.” Rocket shook his head, muttered a few curses but approached allowing Bucky to run a hand over his ears. “It’s only cuz you saved my life. Don’t get used to it.”

“Whatever you say Ranger Rick.” 

“But...really,” Rocket looked up at the man after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “Thank you.” Bucky met his look and responded with a genuine smile, surprised at the thick emotion to his own voice,

“Your welcome,” the raccoonoid didn’t respond but he leaned in to the comforting hand and that was all Bucky needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky’s head whirled around at the strenuous high-pitched squeak. Rocket was crouched, claws tugging at something lodged in his side. Bucky scrambled over, eyes expertly determining the extent of the wound. He squinted, the fur obscuring his analysis.    
  
Rocket was panting, eyes sharp with pain. Bucky moved the raccoonoid’s dexterous paws aside trying to get a better look at the bullet.    
  
“We’re gonna get this out,” he reasoned. Rocket smirked, holding his paw over the wound.    
  
“C’mon Barnes what’s another bit of metal in my skin? Add it to the collection yah know?”    
  
“Haha,” The man commented dryly. He scanned the area and turned once more to the raccoonoid.    
  
“Sorry about this Rocket I know how much you hate being touched, especially carried lovingly to safety.”    
  
“Barnes! What the flark are you...” the words were whisked out of his mouth as Bucky’s hands lifted heaved him up into the crook of his arm. Rocket cursed fluidly the whole way back, the spiked bullet pinching his insides every time he dared to claw away.    
  
Bucky swung open the door of their apartment, Rocket’s dark blood staining his arm and running down his side.    
  
“What happened?” Steve exclaimed his eyes flitting from Bucky to Rocket.    
  
“I’m fine, there was a fight...I wasn’t looking...but Rocket he...”    
  
“I’ll be fine Barnes!” Rocket growled, easing himself from the humans hold towards Groot.    
  
“We gotta call an ambulance,” Steve suggested.    
  
“No! A vet I think! Or animal control? I don’t know,” Bucky grabbed his cell off the table w a bloody hand. “An exotic vet? Are raccoons considered exotic pets?”    
  
“I’m not your....” Groot grew an extra branch shoving it between the raccoonoid’s growling jaws to shut him up and give him something to bite on as he began to extract the bullet.    
  
Bucky dialed, “Yes hello my pet raccoon’s been shot.”    
  
“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to have a pet raccoon in the state of New York,” Steve whispered. “They might have changed the laws since we were kids though, I’m not sure.”    
  
“Damnit it!” Bucky hung up the phone. “I’m never going to understand this decade!”    
  
“I ain’t your pet,” Rocket seethed through gritted teeth as Groot finished bandaging him with leaves he’d grown. “I ain’t a raccoon and I ain’t dying so pipe down!”

\---

  
Bucky couldn’t sleep. Not that that was unusual but this time he kept hearing that animalistic shriek of shock and pain as Rocket had been hit w a bullet larger than his fist. He tossed and turned finally throwing off the covers and got himself out of bed making his way towards the tinkering sound of Rocket’s latest project.    
  
Rocket smelled and heard the humie before he saw him. But he remained focused on the new Sakkaran cannon he was enhancing.    
  
“You can’t be doing stuff like that Rocket,” Bucky’s eternally tired voice reasoned. “It’s one thing for guys like me or Steve or Groot to get hit with something like that but you...” Rocket turned, watching the human try to choose his words very carefully. It was kind of amusing, and he bit back a snicker as Bucky finally decided to let his voice drift off.    
  
“Why cuz I ain’t as big as you?” He turned back to his work. His side still hurt.

  
“Christ Rocket I use guns that weigh more than you!” Bucky came closer, voice exasperated. “You could’ve been killed...” he finished. Rocket shrugged, testing the lever in the cannon.    
  
“It was just one bullet,” he reasoned casually.    
  
“Rocket,” Bucky whispered hoarsely, the raccoonoid glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Rocket listen to me,”    
  
“No!” The raccoonoid bristled, dropping his tools as he leapt up on the back of the chair and perched on it, his face level with that of the man. He jabbed a clawed finger at Bucky’s face. “ _ You _ listen to  _ me _ ! It was just one bullet, hell  I’d take a thousand bullets before I let the em take the only dumb ass who’s gone ever gone through the same shit I have! Before I let em take the only person who's made me feel like maybe all that torture and shit was worth it!” Rocket hissed hair stuck on end, hackles up.  _ Oh god,  _ Bucky thought,  _ how many painkillers did Steve give him? I knew we should’ve used the children’s Tylenol! _ _   
_   
“I blame myself for that...for what they did to you...if I let you die for me....” he shook his head running a hand over his face.    
  
“Will you quit it with that guilt bullshit for one second?!” Rocket snarled, teeth bared. “You remember how I told yah about how they made me? With sentience and all that philosophical crap? Choices Barnes! I can make my own dast choices! Well I made my choice and I’m gonna keep making it!”    
  
“What choice is that?” Bucky questioned, arms folded. He couldn’t face Rocket’s red eyes.    
  
“You said it yourself,” Rocket’s voice fell to a whisper. “I gotta watch your six. Well I’m watching your six and your third and  your one hundredth.” Bucky bit back a small smile. “I said I had your back Barnes, I’m choosing to watch your back and if I get smoked to save your butt that’s my choice too.”    
  
The humie reached out a hand of protest. Rockets lip curled, tail thrashing. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, dangerously eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare take that away from me. You try to take away that choice then your no better then them.” Silence fell around them.  __ Fuck , Rocket cursed inwardly. He’d gone too far. As usual he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and now he was going to pay for it. He waited for the blow,    
  
“Your right,” Bucky admitted softly, leaning against the workbench. “Your right.”  Rocket scratched his ear in agitation. “I respect your choice,” Bucky sucked in a breath, meeting his eyes once more. “But I don’t agree with it.” Rocket’s tail twitched, he balanced on the back of the chair.    
  
“Ain’t no thing like me ‘ceped me,” he quipped, Bucky looked up. “...and you.  Your the closest thing I got.”    
  
“I’m not a very good option,” Bucky murmured, voice cracking. The large bandage around the raccoonoid’s toro sent and inexorable wave of nausea through him. Rocket spat at the ground.    
  
“You listen to me and you listen good.” He scooted the chair closer and leaned towards Bucky, scrutinizing. “Fuck I wish I was drunk. But unfortunately for the both of us  I’m stone cold sober so listen up.” Bucky blinked, bracing himself.    
  
“....You got better...after what they did to yah. You were able to love Steve and save the world and...you got outta that place and you became better.” Rocket’s whiskers twitched though Bucky couldn’t quite read his face. “I didn’t get in front of that bullet cuz you needed saving. I got in front of that bullet cuz.....cuz..you made it though what they did to us. You went through hell and came out the other side....cuz...” Rocket tried to find the words. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked squarely at Bucky taking a fragile breath,  “cuz we are Groot...” he forced the words through the lump in his throat, they were so heavy. 

_ What the hell is that supposed to….?  _ The confused skepticism died in Bucky’s mind the instant he took in Rocket’s face. Wid animal eyes brimmed with tears, face screwed up with grief and longing. 

Now he’d done it, Rocket cursed himself. He’d never said those words aloud before and now he’d blurted them out like a lunatic. It made no sense! Fuck he’d just ripped the callous right off. Forget the wound in his side, this hurt way worse and you couldn’t stop emotions like blood. He looked at Bucky and sniffed. That right there was why humans gave him the creeps: they said too much with their eyes. Too many things he couldn’t understand. The man before him nodded, taking a deep breath. Silence fell around them once more. Bucky picked up a grailian screwdriver on the table and fiddled with it. He didn’t speak Groot...but he was intuitive. And those three words made him feel humble, small but it in a pleasant way and it moved him.    
  
“I guess I just got used to Steve being the only one to give a shit.” He half joked after awhile.    
  
“Tsch, not anymore so get used to it.”    
  
“I’ll do my best,” Bucky grinned easing himself into the chair. Rocket turned and climbed down little claws going across his arm and back down to the ground.    
  
“Barnes?”   
  
“Yeah?”    
  
“If I ever do kick the can for your sake, do something for me would yah?”    
  
“Of course,” Bucky replied in earnest. A wicked grin laced the raccoonoid’s face.    
  
“Just don’t turn my tail into one of those hats you homies where from the old days.”    
  
Bucky let out a bolt of laughter,    
  
“WHAT? Rocket! I was gonna be Davey Crocket for Halloween!”    
  
“Who the flark is Davey Crocket?” Bucky began to explain but Rocket interrupted him.    
  
“Whatever, where’s that old timey helmet you got?” Bucky lifted a brow, he knew that tone.    
  
“Why?” Rocket only smiled impishly.    
  
“Cuz I promised the lady at the pawn shop I’d bring her something good! That gross old jacket made me a fortune she loved it!” It didn’t take Bucky long to connect the dots,    
  
“Your pawning off my stuff from the war?!” He stood up only half mad. Rocket licked his lips, leaning down to pick up a spare part to the cannon,    
  
“Oh yeah. Humies love shit from World War II. Where’s that helmet at?”    
  
Bucky shook his head,    
  
“No helmet. But you can take one of the pistols. C’mon I’ll show you.” Rocket followed the man through the hall and paused, watching the humie walk w his one arm and slight limp. 

_ Damn Barnes....you don’t know how far you’ve come do yah? _

 

**_The End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> This is just my excuse to write melodramatically about Bucky and Rocket's friendship. I didn't flush out why they got shot/who shot them and the context around it....I just wanted to cut to the chase. The idea came to my mind and I had to write it out. I"m a glutton for platonic friends who are usually rough and closed off bonding and spilling their hearts out under life or die circumstances. 
> 
> Thanks to Skarabrae_stone for the editorial oversight and support, go read their work! 
> 
> Come visit us at @captaintoomanybattles and @trashpandaorigins on Tumblr!


End file.
